


The Reality of Fantasy

by sesshachan



Series: Great Minds [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sesshachan/pseuds/sesshachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is new to his job. The whole of MI6 is still reeling from what is whispered in corners as “The Skyfall Tragedy” after the old Bond manor where MI6 lost their last M. However, the world does not pause for troubles or grief and all must press forward. For Q, however, some things are more easily prepared for than others.<br/>He never  thought he would have to prepare to face the reality of fantasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reality of Fantasy

The Q-branch of MI6 was nestled deep in the bowels of their new location. Not that it hadn't been deep in the bowels of their _last_ location. Q-branch was always secreted away. Presumably this made it harder for infiltrators to abscond with their delicate technicians, or get into the closed circuit databases. In practicality what it meant for everyone working in Q-branch was that it took at least half an hour longer for them to make it from the front door to their workspaces than anyone else in the building.

The Quartermaster himself, new to the job for only two weeks and still working out the kinks in the new building, was fifteen minutes earlier than his first day-shift minion. Sorry, _colleague_. He filled his Q 10 mug (a gift from the staff) with the muddy sludge they claimed was supposed to be coffee from the break room percolator and spooned in almost enough sugar to put a hypoglycemic into a diabetic coma. Thusly armed Q ambled into his glass-walled office.

Where there was an unfamiliar woman perched on the edge of his desk.

She was dressed professionally in a pencil skirt and blouse with her hair loosely pulled back with a clip. Q paused in confusion. He knew all of the MI6 personnel by name, photograph, and voice. He did not recognize her at all.

“Good morning,” she said. “My, you really are much younger than your predecessor. My condolences, by the way. It's a terrible way to inherit a job.”

“And you are?” Q asked, still clutching his mug of coffee sugar.

“Hermione Granger, head of the Unspeakable division, from the Ministry of Magic.” She held out her hand. Q shook it. “You might know us as MI7.”

“I'm sorry?” Q was openly skeptical. “The Ministry of what?”

“Magic,” Hermione shrugged. “I'm not crazy so you don't have to look at me like that.”

“How did you even get in here?” Q asked feeling like he was being a bit slow.

Hermione passed over an ID card. “I have clearance, of course,” she said. “You and I are doing something of the same job, you see, just dealing with villains who possess different skill sets. Take a seat and I'll read you in.”

The following three hours were the most confusing, surreal, and illuminating Q had ever experienced. Hermione was a fount of information, willingly sharing what Q wanted to know and explaining everything in precise detail. She provided tangible evidence of magic being a real thing, taking his requests as to what she demonstrated, even explaining the scientific process behind it all.

That was something Q had never given any serious thought to: the science of magic.

“I think I would like a drink,” Q confessed when Hermione wound down.

Hermione nodded sympathetically. “My father said the same thing when I got my school letter. It is a bit much. I'm sorry if I'm not explaining it well. This is the first time I've had to tell someone without having someone else with me. Actually,” she said thoughtfully, “it's the first time I've had to tell _anyone_.”

“It's all rather much,” Q said. He took off his glasses and used the hem of his cardigan to clean off the lenses.

“Oh, I know,” Hermione sighed. “So, how are you taking it? Feel like running for the hills yet?”

“It's still rather...” Q searched for the right word. “Alien. Why are you telling me about this now?”

“Protocol,” Hermione said with half a shrug. “You have a right to know what my people are capable of and what they're up to just as I have a right to know what sort of trouble your people are embroiled in. We are all, after all, both of us loyal subjects of our queen fighting the same battlefields.”

Q hummed. “So how are we to proceed with this relationship?” he asked curiously.

“We collaborate when our superiors ask, or when we think one of our projects could benefit from it,” Hermione said. She took a card out of her handbag and slid it across his desk. “My contact information.”

Picking up the card Q read the copperplate words: _Hermione Granger, London._

“This hardly qualifies as 'contact information,' Miss Granger,” Q complained evenly.

“Have a little faith, Q,” Hermione chided. “All you need to do is write on the back and I will receive the message. Think of it similar to texting, only in longhand.”

Q grimaced. “That's tedious. Do you not have a phone?”

“Unfortunately no,” Hermione shook her head. “Computer technology and magic don't really get along. But I have to get going. I have an appointment in half an hour that I cannot be late for.” They both rose to their feet.

“It was a pleasure to meet  you,” Q said automatically.

“Likewise,” Hermione answered just as formally.

Q saw Hermione out of his office and watched her stride through the open room filled with technicians and analysts attached to radios and computer terminals. When she vanished from sight Q turned back into his office and pulled out his phone. He held it to his ear.

“Moneypenny, could you arrange a meeting with M for me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my sisters and my mom for reading this over for me and catching the little things that i missed. Love you!


End file.
